The associate frowned slightly, looking down the aisle. "Which woman?" Caroline subtly pointed a manicured finger. "The one over there in the dark top." The associate glanced across the floor and smiled faintly. "Dr. Bennett?" Caroline blinked, oblivious to the title or the name. "You know her?" The associate hesitated, noticing the bite in Caroline's tone. "I've helped her before. She's a regular customer." Caroline's expression hardened, suggesting that this information did not reassure her in the slightest. "Well, she's walking around carrying merchandise in a very careless manner." "Customers generally do that while shopping, ma'am." Caroline stared at the associate, offended by the polite pushback. "I'm trying to help you protect your store's inventory." "Thank you, but—" "I saw her put something near her bag," Caroline interrupted sharply.
The associate looked over toward Simone, who was calmly turning the pages of a clothing rack. Simone's structured leather handbag was zipped tightly closed, resting securely over her forearm. Nothing appeared unusual or out of place. "Did you actually see her put merchandise inside her bag?" the associate asked carefully. Caroline's certainty faltered for a fraction of a second under the employee's direct gaze. "Not exactly," Caroline admitted, cross-examining her own memory, "but her movements are suspicious." "Then I'm sure everything is completely fine, ma'am," the associate replied with practiced retail diplomacy. Dissatisfied and increasingly irritated, Caroline turned on her heel and walked away.
Ten minutes later, Caroline spotted Simone again near the fitting rooms. This time, Simone had several distinct garments draped over her left arm: Maya's silk blue dress, a deep burgundy evening gown, and a crisp white tailored blouse. Simone gave a polite nod to the fitting room attendant and stepped inside one of the spacious, velvet-curtained suites. The heavy door clicked shut behind her. Caroline positioned herself near a display of cashmere scarves roughly twenty feet away, her arms crossed tight over her chest as she watched the door. Five minutes passed. Then ten minutes. When the door finally swung open and Simone emerged, she was carrying only two garments—the blue dress and the burgundy gown.
Caroline's heart accelerated with a sudden burst of self-righteous adrenaline. There had been three garments. She was absolutely certain of it. Or, at least, certain enough to satisfy her mounting bias. Hurrying down the marble hallway, Caroline spotted the floor manager, Elena Ruiz, adjusting a mannequin display. "Excuse me! I believe a woman just stole something from your floor," Caroline declared breathlessly. Elena Ruiz immediately turned, her expression morphing into one of serious professional concern. "What did you see, ma me?" Caroline leaned in, her voice dripping with urgency. "She went into the fitting room with three expensive items and just walked out with only two. She has concealed the third garment."
Elena kept her tone strictly professional, asking the foundational question required by store protocol. "Did you actually see her conceal the garment inside her personal bag or clothing?" Caroline huffed, her impatience flaring. "No, but the math doesn't lie! She had three pieces and now she has two! It's obvious!" Elena looked toward the fitting-room desk, but the attendant was currently occupied inside another suite helping a customer with a zipper. "I think you need to step in and search her bag immediately," Caroline demanded, her voice rising. "We cannot search a customer's personal belongings based solely on suspicion, ma'am," Elena replied firmly. "It goes against store policy and the law."